As I sit down to write this, my house is a disaster area. We're in the midst of renovations and, being married to the contractor, I'm trying to accept that we are the last on the list. Every week there is a little change in our home. A window here, a door there, new trim in my kid's bedrooms. I am truly in awe of my husband's skill as he works to make our home beautiful.
But a part of me is often irritated with how my home looks. How slow things are going. As I write this, I have two front doors. No gutters. My microwave and half of my kitchen utensils are in the unfinished addition, of which there is no heat. And speaking of heat, we're still waiting for the wood stove pipes to come in so we can have some. Hopefully the cold weather holds off for a couple more weeks.
As I struggle against the changes, I can't help but think how my house renovation is similar to how God works in our lives. A little uncomfortable change here. A new desire there. Some painful chiseling here. Like my house, I am a constant work-in-progress. Only in the end, on the day I meet my Savior, will beauty prevail. And although I look forward to that day, I hope that I get to see my home beautifully finished first!
And so I also think about this concept as I put pen to paper. Can this first draft turn into anything but chaos? Slowly I chisel. Carefully I add. A scene here. A new depth to my character there. I fly solely on the wings of hope. Who knows? Maybe in the end there will be something beautiful.